Something Sweet
by iExpress
Summary: <html><head></head>Ben and Wallace have breakfast together, like they do almost each morning. This time, it goes a bit differently.</html>


If his own job doesn't kill him, Wallace Foster figured, nothing will.

Yet another in row of sleepless night passed, during which Wallace hopelessly and helplessly tried to come up with ways to approach the resentful residents of District C. Numerous books on sociology, psychology and even self-help manuals lied scattered around the small, poorly furnished and otherwise empty apartment; numerous notes, both crumpled and otherwise, lied practically everywhere. Just as the dawn slowly started to break through the darkness of the night, the young man finally let his head wobble and he lowered it on the first page of the book he's been trying to read for at least thirty minutes, deciding a five minute rest would be alright. It took mere seconds, however, for him to sink into a restless sleep, mumbling incoherent words for a while as he tried to battle deep sleep, before his mind finally entered the distant depths of the dreamland and he slept peacefully upon his desk.

That is until by now all too familiar soft knocking echoed through the small place. Sitting up abruptly, still half sleeping, Wallace quickly grabbed his old hoodie and put it on, already knowing well who he'd find behind the door. And wouldn't you know it, Ben was indeed standing there, holding as always two cups of take-out coffee and a paper bag, usually filled with donuts or croissants or something similarly delicious. Wallace whined something in protest and Ben resisted rolling his eyes at the human. It was the same story every morning for the two of them – ever since Ben first brought him breakfast, he continued to do the same whenever he heard the sounds of angered hisses and frustrated crumbles of paper being thrown around the human's apartment continuing late into the night; and every morning, Wallace would poorly try to tell him it wasn't necessary, each and every morning Ben had to forcibly stop him from paying what he figured he owed for the breakfast.

"I've already developed a likable habit of having breakfast here with you, so your complaint can only serve to insult me."

"Ah, I'm sorry Mr Bake—Ben." Wallace mentally slapped himself, a thought obvious on his face as he frowned, angry at his pathetic inability to address his landlord informally. Finally accepting defeat in shape of a complimentary breakfast yet again, he let his landlord in. As Ben made his way through the door, Wallace noticed with growing discomfort the state of his room and without further ado, started hastily picking up the first messy pile of papers he saw, mumbling an apology as he did. Standing up, he blushed upon seeing how much of a mess he succeeded in making overnight and felt Ben's heavy hand patting his shoulder.

"Don't sweat it, Foster. You'll have plenty of energy to clean that mess up once you have some of this." He pushed the plastic cup into his hands. The warm, welcome scent of coffee brought a hesitant smile to Wallace's face.

"Much better." Ben commented the smile, making Wallace feel awkwardly flattered. "Sit down and eat something. I can tell you need it."

Wallace grinned uncomfortably, aware of the fact stress was getting to him to the point where he wouldn't eat for a whole day, either forgetting or not feeling the need to do so – leaving him heavily famished the morning after. This being one of such mornings, made him extra grateful for having such a caring landlord.

The thought of Ben's caring demeanor brought the different kind of appreciation he held for his landlord for a while now to his mind, and Wallace carelessly let a blush overflow his face; a sight he tried desperately to hide and which Ben likely already noticed dozens of time, but didn't attribute it to the shifting admiration of his tenant. Without paying much of attention to Wallace, much to the human's appreciation, he reached into the bag and pulled out a soft doughnut. Wordlessly, he handed the remains of the bag over to Wallace and the young man fell silent for a short while, indulging the sudden need to stuff himself with caffeine and sugar. Two croissants and one sweet roll later, he downed the remaining bits of his coffee and sighed contently. Full stomach made him temporarily forget all his issues and all the surroundings; for a few moments there was nothing but him, the taste of fresh coffee and donuts and the softness of the couch.

"I obviously came just in time." Ben noted, and Wallace chuckled at him nervously as he got up and walked over to the fridge.

"Sorry for being such a burden every morning." He mumbled shyly as he started heating the milk; he found Ben's strong coffee tasty and energizing, but appreciated the soft taste of warm milk after it. He could hear Ben's familiar sigh behind his back.

"If it was actually a burden, I wouldn't be coming up here every morning, don't you think?"

"I… guess so…" Wallace replied quietly, feeling slightly complimented by the comment. It has been almost a month since he moved in here and somewhere along the line, meeting Ben every other morning and talking over breakfast, has made the young man feel undeniably closer to him – Wallace, innocent and optimistic as he tended to be, tried to deny this unusual appearance of romantic admiration for his landlord, but with every passing day it became more obvious to him it was hardly just a silly little thing, easy to discard. All he could do at this point was to enjoy to feeling of butterflies and try his best to contain a blissful smile whenever Ben so much as addressed him.

A few extra minutes passed in silence as he put a spoonful of honey into the heated milk and waited for it to dissolve. After he prepared his beverage, he strolled over back to the couch and carefully sat down, trying not to spill the contents of the cup, pulled his feet up from the cold floor and curled on the couch in an attempt to warm himself up a bit better – after a sip of milk, however, it was hardly necessary, as the drink warmed him instantly and he almost giddily nuzzled himself into the couch.

"Still, thank you. You have no idea how much I appreciate your kindness."

_Thank God he doesn't have an idea._

Ben said nothing, instead just giving Wallace a playful smile as he finished his own coffee. His slit eyes followed Wallace's cup as he raised it to his mouth and he commented:

"You know, I see you prepare it each and every morning, but I've never drunk milk prepared that way."

Wallace blinked "What? You mean… heated?"

Ben snorted, trying not to laugh. "I meant with honey, Foster."

"Oh." Wallace blushed a bit. "It's the way my mother used to make it and, uh… the habit just kinda stuck."

Ben's smile widened at the human's words. Why that happened, Wallace couldn't say, but he liked when Ben smiled. He immediately tried to shake the thought off. He felt like a complete dork at the moment, but Ben didn't seem to be mocking him, at least if it were to judge by that stare. Much too intensive stare, in fact.

"Uh." In an attempt to sounds more confident about his favorite morning drink, Wallace offered the cup to him: "Would you like a taste of it? It is pretty good. Also healthy. Does wonders for skin… supposedly. I think."

_Why can't I shut UP?_Wallace couldn't help but wonder, by now as red as a sunset and praying to whatever deity that his landlord wouldn't take him for a total weirdo. The cup was still waiting in his grasp to be taken and Wallace started retreating his hand, expecting Ben to naturally refuse; but just as he did, Ben actually reached for the cup, missing it because of Wallace's maneuvers. Blinking, he chuckled.

"I can't have a taste of it if you're not willing to let me have one."

"S-Sorry!" Wallace blurted out, returning the cup so abruptly, he nearly spilled its contents. Ben took a small sip and smacked his lips, and Wallace, completely childishly, noticed he drank from the same side of the cup he himself initially started drinking from. It was a silly observation and rather unimportant. Why did he notice it anyway? Indirect kisses were a thing of a childhood past, when both boys and girls alike blushed at the thought of sharing a drink from the same source. It was definitely not that, Wallace knew, and it took him a few more moments to realize what was it that garnered his attention with the way Ben drank from the cup.

Ben made a funny looking face at the taste, as if something awfully amusing just happened.

"Sweeter than I'm used to, but pleasantly sweet nevertheless. I could get used to a sip of this after coffee. More, even." He commented as he handed the cup back.

For one wildly romantic and silly moment, Wallace was convinced Ben wasn't referring to the milk, but then shook his head out of it and stared into the remains of his milk instead. He found himself blushing again at the thought of the two drinking from the same cup. He glanced at his landlord and noticed with a certain dose of shock that Ben was still intensively staring at him. It was almost unbearable and Wallace smiled nervously at him.

"Is something wrong?"

"Nothing, as far as I know." Ben replied lazily, looking away for a moment to light a cigarette.

"Right." He looked back at the cup. Ben was staring at him.

Deciding he waited enough, Wallace finally brought the cup to his lips. It wasn't the indirect contact he was searching for. He simply wanted to know what it was like. To try it.

To try tasting the same taste Ben carried around on his own lips.

And there it was. The spiced scent of strong cigarettes. Black coffee. Sugared doughnuts. And behind it all, something else… it couldn't have been tooth paste, not after the all the food and coffee… did he grab a mint after the donuts? It was hard to say. But it tasted well, so well and without quite noticing, Wallace's expression melted into a smile.

"It is strong and overwhelming... but with traces of sweetness. There's something extra to it... but I can't quite say what it is."

It took him a fine ten seconds to realize he just described the taste of Ben's lips out loud and Wallace suddenly slapped a hand over his mouth, although far too late. Throwing a terrified stare in Ben's direction, his heart sank at the sight of eternally stoic Ben pulling out his lighter – if there was any significant reaction to his words, he missed it. Was he even listening to him? Did he heard a thing Wallace said? Perhaps he didn't realize what Wallace was referring to, and wasn't questioning it either. The silence stretched itself over several more awkward moment during which Wallace's face exchanged as many colors as there were letters in Roy's entire name.

But Ben didn't seem half as preoccupied with thoughts as Wallace. He lazily pulled a smoke and sank deeper into the couch, enjoying the sensation the cigarette gave him. Wallace decided to forget his little accident, deciding Ben must've been tuned out – thankfully – at just the right moment. The young man let out a big, tense breath before once again sipping from cup, now slightly spiced with the flavor of Ben's cigarettes. He smiled a bit mischievously to himself, feeling like a small boy stealing from a cookie jar.

"So, uh," Wallace started, wanting to get into any topic to get his mind away from his landlord and the childish behavior he was displaying, "did you have any luck with renting out that apartment in the ground floor?

"Nah," Ben scratched at his ear, "No offense Foster, but with you living here now, there have been less and less visitors coming to check it out."

Ouch. Obviously, that was a bad conversational topic, Wallace decided, uncomfortably returning his attention to his cup of milk and curling up on the couch. Ben must've noticed the sulky eyes, because he took the cigarette out of his mind and glanced at the man with a shifty eye.

"You can understand that, yet you let it get to you. You really are taking things too personally."

"It's not that, really," Wallace admitted, "but more that fact I'm causing trouble for you. I never even imagined I could be the reason for that."

Ben suppressed a smile. "How very kind of you, Foster, but don't let that little issue to gnaw on your conscience for too long. I wouldn't have it any other way; even if that apartment's only purpose turns out to be gathering dust, I'll know I did the right thing." He got up.

"Thanks for the company, but I can't stay too long today. Some idiot managed to break the heater in his apartment. Again." He sighed and waved shortly at the young human. "I'll see you around."

He stepped right by Wallace and paused in his steps just as he passed him, then turned around, his eyes blinking.

"Oh yeah – figured out what was that extra flavor in the milk yet?"

"No, I—" Wallace blinked when it hit him, and his eyes frantically looked up. Ben was, as always, simply looking at him, though he definitely looked as if he was trying not to smile. Wallace gulped as the red tint fueled his face, confused by the unusual development of the situation.

"I—uh. M-mint, perhaps?" He automatically replied, growing more restless and more confused every second. Ben kept staring at him and Wallace started fidgeting.

"Ben, what are you—"

"Try it again," Ben gestured towards the cup, "perhaps you'll get it right this time."

"…Righ… right." Wallace absent mindedly picked the cup up, still wondering what the heck was going on, and sipped. The taste of milk was as sweet as always, and the short lived traces of black coffee and cigarettes was gone.

"Well?"

"It's… simply sweet." Wallace was notably disappointed about it, but shrugged sheepishly at Ben. "Strange, ain't it? Guess we'll never find out now, ahaha… ha…"His shaky laugh died before Ben's relentless stare and Wallace returned the look nervously.

Then the unexpected happened.

Ben leant onto the arm of the couch and leaned into Wallace's face. He was barely two niches away. It was the first time Wallace saw his dark eyes so clearly, so up close. Only up close did he noticed how unusual his eyes were, how non-human… dangerous, almost. Perhaps it was supposed to be scaring him, but whatever it was that was resting in them, was, above all, alluring. A few long moments passed before he realized just how ridiculously close Ben was. Enough to make him think inappropriate things, if anything.

Then he felt it. The scent of cigarettes. Coffee. Sugar. And an unfamiliar faint scent, fresh and breezy.

For the longest moment, Ben just looked at him, and Wallace wasn't sure if Ben was merely giving him some sort of time out - for which he was grateful whatever the case might've been - or did he really find something worth looking in his silly, triangle-nosed face. Or perhaps, waiting for he younger man's move.

Then Ben's eyes started to close and Wallace figured he should do the same and so he did, expectant, excited and afraid; and before he knew, there was a whole wave of flavors, of spiced cigarettes and strong black coffee and sugar and slightly minty but sweet taste, mixed up in a wonderful concoction, invading his senses in the most delicate and gentle manner he couldn't even imagine before. At the time, he wasn't thinking about it, but later he wondered if he ever received a kiss as good as that one.

He couldn't tell how long it lasted, but it felt long, almost long enough for it to not leave him wanting more. When the two men finally parted, Wallace realized he forgot to breathe during the kiss; he took a deep breath before opening his eyes, feeling sleepy and quite dizzy. Somehow, his hands ended up around Ben's neck, and he couldn't recall putting them there, just as he couldn't remember when it was that Ben's hand tousled his hair or hugged his back. Ben was staring at him, his expression almost as mysterious as always – but this time, his smile indicated everything Wallace needed to know and Wallace returned it earnestly.

"This is definitely," Ben started with a silly grin, "the kind of sweetness," he landed one more tender kiss on Wallace's forehead, "I can get used to."

And so, with a soft smile and gentle pat on the blonde head of the startled young man, Ben left the apartment. Wallace stood still, staring into the door his landlord left through for at least ten more minutes, confused, exhilarated and happy.

He had no idea Ben ate mint-flavored doughnuts – all these mornings and somehow, this observation evaded him. But as that fact settled in his mind, he hastily grabbed a pair of pants and shoes and made his way to the bakery, deciding to invite Ben over for an afternoon snack. And perhaps, a little something extra.

Something sweet.


End file.
